The End is Where We Begin
by HiddenWolfx
Summary: When a message from the past drags the Lone Wanderer and her ghoulish companion back to where it all started, a series of events and adventures occur that bring forth strife, trouble pasts, remorse, love, jealousy and temptation.


**There will be potential spoilers for anyone who hasn't done some of the main quest line and some of the side-quests in Fallout 3.**

* * *

All colors seemed to have faded away from the grief-stricken wanderer and her life of melancholy. Not a moment would go by where she wouldn't bear in mind the old nostalgic thoughts of Vault 101 and her dear father. For seventy-two hours she had gone without muttering a single word to her companion. Charon could only recall hearing her bark some orders to the remaining doctors and assistants of Project Purity as they made a mad dash through the Taft tunnels from the Enclave soldiers. The poor girl could only take so much loss and stress at a time before she would break and shatter like precious glass. And somewhere in between the desperation of a daughter clasping onto some sort of false hope that her father would make it out alive and the unjustified screaming Doctor Li directed at her, she had mentally snapped.

Now here they were, not even hardly three days after the traumatic events and death, wandering aimlessly outside of the town of Springvale. The ghoul knew she was depressed but it was apparent that she was so caught up in her misery, she'd been leading them in circles with no idea as to where there were going. Charon contemplated offering some kind of advice or even asking if she needed to talk, but after rolling the idea around in his head. He simply decided to let it go and let her deal with the loss on her own accord. Charon had done the best he could do to console her with soothing words of sympathy to an awkward shoulder hug just as they left the Citadel with the wanderer in tears.

Regardless of her current stance, he would remain by her side, but not just because of his legal binding contract. Truth be told, he felt of her as more than just another owner or 'employer' as Ahzrukhal had put it many times. Charon had no qualms with his status as a slave. Any contention he felt as a youth at the beginning of his new life had all but been beaten out of him. Turning him from a rebellious whelp to a hellish executioner that knew the in's and out's of a combat shotgun better than his own hand. A hardened life of abuse and order was nothing new to him. And if given the choice he would rather opt the latter than a cushy life of luxury as someone's personal 'guard ghoul'. Not because he enjoyed it, no, if anything he hated that life - especially with Ahzrukhal. The bastard.

Charon however had a backwards ways of thinking from time to time, no matter how wise he could be. He was used to that grating way of life. But ever since Akira had bought the contract off of Ahzrukhal and promptly left behind Underworld, letting Charon finish any untimely business he needed to in privacy, she had treated him with the utmost respect and kindness. It was a strange feeling really. These things called recognition and freedom. She treated him like a person, not some kind of second-rate citizen that deserved to die for what a series of unfortunate events had done to alter his humanistic appearance or a piece of living property to abuse just because _'she felt like it'_. He wasn't just another shuffler, a zombie, an ugly ghoul or a slave. He was a free man. And it was all thanks to some pretty little smooth skin that didn't even need to give him anything but a grimace to acknowledge his existence. For all that she had indirectly given him, he was thankful and was honored to call her his closest friend, even if she didn't realize it.

By now Charon felt the muscles in his leg twinge and spasm in pain, bringing him out of self reflection and back into the real world. He hadn't noticed the lack of his companion Akira up until now. He noted seeing a flash of a female silhouette in his peripheral vision before falling to his knee in pain. Unbeknownst to him, a group of raiders had ambushed them on the streets of Springvale.

Akira was dodging and swiveling around on her feet like a fleet-footed ninja. The first blow that shot forward was from a slender raider that wore a bloodied hockey mask. She slashed away at her rather unskillfully with a seven inch combat knife. The wanderer had dealt with many raiders before and had become sort of a professional at raider killing. This one on one was a one-sided fight, with every one already knowing the victor. But Akira couldn't help but give the wanna-be a complacent smile. She misdirected the raider and in one swift blow, used the butt of her hunting rifle to smash her head in. The barbaric women fell to the ground with a harsh thud against the concrete. Charon on the other hand had gotten up off of his legs long enough to finish the one sniping from a distance. The other one, a crazed looking man with a giant green mo-hawk, came dashing at Charon. He'd drawn a machete and aimed at his rotting chest. The ghoul gave a gruff sigh of annoyance and mumbled under his breath before pulling the trigger.

The raider, who was much faster and stealthier than expected by Charon, darted by him in the blink of an eye. The machete came clashing against his thick ebony leather armor, ripping it to shreds on the left hand side. With a look of pure anger, he whipped around on his feet and, using his good leg, bounded backwards with one simple move and pulled the trigger again. The warm mist of blood sprayed across his face and onto his armor as the raiders face turned into a blood gushing pulp of brain matter and bone fragments.

Charon stifled a growl of pain as he was brought back down to his knee. Akira noticed her companion nearly collapse under and ran over to him with nothing but worry drawn all across her face. Two pairs of bright golden eyes scanned his body for any sort of afflictions but to her dismay she couldn't find the source of his pain. Until her eye was drawn to a bloodied stump of a leg, right where his calf muscle lie. One of those raider bastards had misdirected their shot and incapacitated his leg, severely with a blow from a rifle. The rip on his leather was well hidden under the shadow of his arm. She grabbed his right arm and tucked it over her shoulder, placing her other hand on his back. Charon understood and shifted his weight on his good leg and slowly but surely he hobbled, with the help of Akira to an abandoned building.

The wanderer remembered being hired by Moriarty to chase out some women who owed him caps. Now that she'd run off some time ago, it left the shack all to herself. She harshly pushed the door open with her foot and with a few more misplaced steps, she let Charon go down onto the bed. Together they sat in near silence for a couple seconds, where the sounds of their breath was all that was heard. The ghoul looked at her with thoughtful eyes as she shifted from the bed to her feet. Her eyes scanned him once more for any other injuries and that was when she spotted the torn leather. Charon mumbled incoherently as he felt up his side.

**"Off with the armor."** Akira spoke calmly, meeting Charons confused gaze. It was just a torn piece of armor. . . nothing serious.** "Kid, it's noth-"  
**

**"That's not a request, Charon. It's an order. Off with the armor . . . Now." **

Akira never liked having to order her followers in such a harsh tone. But when it came down to afflictions out here in the wastes, Akira wasted no time in looking to them. The smallest cut could become contaminated in any way and turn into an infection and an infection could worsen to something even deadlier, if not fatal. She didn't want to bare the thought of losing anyone, especially Charon.

Caught up in a mini-daze, Charon took off each piece of leather chest plate, anything else on his arms, casting it to the side carelessly. She averted her eyes, catching her watching Charon with interest as he stripped down to bare muscle. Her face flushed embarrassingly. She did not want to look like some kind of female 'peeping tom'. But her ghoulish companion didn't even seem to so much as bat an eye as he finished undressing.

There on the old, rotten mattress sat Charon in all his glory. The wanderer couldn't help but raise an eye brow. Two centuries of decaying flesh had never looked so good. He was impressively sculpted for a ghoul, almost statuesque like an ancient roman model. Curious eyes traced his large, muscular figure, trailing his patchy abs and strong thighs. It was a nice surprise and a coy smile creeped up her face. Akira could just see all those ghoul-haters now, the look on their faces, their jaws dropping cartoonishly to the ground at the sight of her Charon.

_ 'All ghouls are rotting corpses.' _

_'They're so ugly.' _

_'Disgusting.' _

_'Revolting.'_

If this was the definition of ugly, then she didn't want to see the definition of beauty.

n the cupboards. Inside were three stimpacks, a long piece of cloth that would have to substitute any gauze and some whiskey.

Without even having to tell Charon any instructions, he obediently went to lie on his stomach. Akira was no stranger to gun wounds or medicine, getting herself caught up in a couple shootings before and growing up with a doctor as a father. But out here in the wastes, medical supplies were few and far in between so what she had would have to do for now. Thankfully Charon wasn't the type to complain about uncomfortable situations and fixing this up was way easier than it had been for any prior patients.

Using quick nimble fingers, the pant leg was deftly moved up to his thigh. She noticed the patchwork of scars along his legs and she wondered what kind of stories they would tell if they could talk. Her ghoul friend was particularly silent about his history and anything involving his 'brain washing'. She was always aware that he wasn't just some 'employee'. He was a slave pawned off as a bodyguard for suckers like her to buy. It was an impulsive buy, really. Wholeheartedly did she buy him, expecting to give him a more exciting job out in the wastes instead of rotting away ( what was left of him ) in some ghoul dive bar called the Ninth Circle. Sometimes, even traveling together for six months, she wondered if he even liked her companionship or just tolerated it because of the contract she'd bought.

Another hopeless sigh escaped her lips as she continued to work. The needle of the stimpack was carefully injected just right below and above the wound. The whiskey was then easily dumped onto the open cut. She felt the flex of his muscle underneath her palm. A soft hand glided across the wound with a cool rag that stung at the touch. ** "Fucking raiders, if they keep shooting you up like this, there'll be nothing left."** Akira murmured, applying light pressure to the area as she tied it around the lesion.

Five minutes passed before the ghoul finally adjusted to the strange burning, tingling sensation. Charon let a smirk creep onto his face as he met Akiras smile. He wanted to compliment her some how, for her alert thinking, reaction time, for caring for him... **"You're just like your father, kid. You.."** To late now. What was said was said and Charon hadn't even thought of what he was going to say at all. This is what his mouth usually got him into when trying to be nice to someone. Although it wasn't false, even after a hiatus of not touching any kind of medical supplies or cleaning wounds, Akira still found herself unconsciously finding the right utensils and correct antiseptics for them. She truly was her father's daughter - and just that thought alone was enough to wipe the hopeful smile she beamed at Charon and replace it with a disquiet frown and golden eyes beading with fresh tears.

Whimpering, she struggled not to cry. She was the lone-wanderer for Christ sake! A fearless, independent women that ravaged the wastes like an unholy goddess. Fighting for the righteous and destroying all the evil that flooded the ever-dying world in closed her eyes to take herself back to a safer place, where memories of father and daughter at a more innocent time flew by like birds dancing off into the distance. His soft voice lulling her to sleep, his authoritative voice coddling her, the same voice reading the dear passage 'Alpha and Omega' to her. A single drop of grief broke from her eye, then the inevitable that Charon was expecting to happen finally occurred, the whole dam broke. **"Ah.. fuck."** Charon griped at himself as he let the girl slump against his thigh like dead meat and cry to her hearts content. Instinctively, he placed his hand on her shoulder and patted it. Hoping that the emotional turmoil would subside.

And it did briefly, only to bring back an onslaught of memories both bitter and sweet. Of friends and family, lovers and enemies, loyalty and revenge and a certain best friend.

_This is an automated distress message from Vault-tech 101. Message begins.. It feels like you left home a long time ago but I know you're still out there. I just.. I hope you're still alive to hear this. Things got worse after you left. My fathers gone mad with power. If you hear this, please stop looking for your dad and help stop mine. I changed the door password to my name.. If you're hearing this and still care enough to help me, you should remember it._


End file.
